‘You mean that this is a way to discredit our family in case we ever made the claim against the King?’
‘That might be a reasonable theory. What is your family’s relationship with King Alain?’
‘Alain is the son of Judicael but he succeeded to the kingship after his brother Urbien, who died of the Yellow Plague, so he was not involved in the struggle between my grandfather and his. My father is now a close friend of his. Alain is fair-minded and his rule brings prosperity to us all.’
‘So you do not think there is a chance that he would be regarding your father or your family with suspicion?’
‘I doubt it. As I said, he is a good friend to my father. Even if my brother’s silly ideas were known to him, he would treat them with the contempt they deserve.’
‘Nevertheless, in looking for motivation to back your theory that this
There was a sudden knock on the door and, at Trifina’s summons, one of the guards opened it and spoke rapidly.
‘A search of the villa and island has not revealed Iuna,’ Trifina interpreted. ‘I did not expect it to.’
‘Then where did she disembark from Iarnbud’s boat?’ Fidelma began. ‘We must find-’
Another warrior suddenly pushed his way unannounced into the room. He looked embarrassed as he saw Fidelma and Eadulf. Trifina seemed to recognise him for her features changed and she said something quickly. The man spoke at a breathless rate. Fidelma’s ears were growing used to the sounds of the language. Now she was able to pick up the words
Trifina went deathly white and half-rose before slumping back in her chair.
‘What is it?’ Fidelma demanded. ‘What news has he brought?’
The girl turned anguished eyes on them.
‘This man brings a message from Bleidbara — from Brilhag. He says that the local people claim to have caught the Dove of Death, the murderer, and are about to execute him.’
‘Who is it?’ demanded Fidelma.
‘Macliau, my brother!’
Chapter Fourteen
It did not take them long to return to Brilhag in the same fast skiff that had brought the messenger to Trifina. She, with Fidelma, Eadulf and three warriors, had immediately set out for the fortress on the peninsula of Rhuis. A worried-looking Bleidbara greeted them as they landed on the quay just below the fortress. He looked surprised for a moment at seeing Fidelma and Eadulf in the party.
Helping her from the boat, Bleidbara began to speak rapidly, but Trifina said something and he reverted to Latin.
‘The message came from Brother Metellus just after I returned,’ he said. ‘Brother Metellus says that Macliau had reached the abbey with a mob on his heels crying for his blood. They would have killed him there and then, but Macliau pleaded for sanctuary. Brother Metellus, acting for the community, granted it.’
‘A mob? Who constitutes this mob?’ demanded Trifina.
‘Local people, farmers, fishermen. They are led by Barbatil.’
Trifina recognised the name. ‘The father of Argantken?’
‘The same. The situation is that despite sanctuary having been given, they have surrounded the abbey and are preparing to attack to take Macliau away by force and kill him. The monks are threatening them with damnation if they enter the chapel where he has taken refuge. Such threats will not keep their anger at bay for long, however.’
‘And this mob are claiming Macliau is the Dove of Death — the leader of the raiders? They are mad!’ Trifina was angry. ‘Very well. Raise your warriors and we will teach them a lesson they won’t forget!’
‘I have already despatched a dozen warriors to the abbey with Boric in command,’ Bleidbara offered. ‘I had told them to defend Macliau and the monks, but only if their lives are in jeopardy.’
Fidelma reached forward and caught the girl’s arm.
‘Calm yourself,’ she admonished. ‘Let us establish the facts. I agree we must stop this mob from visiting harm on Macliau, but we know how people are able to blame Brilhag for these attacks. In no way should you bring force to bear against these people until we have a chance to reason with them.’
Bleidbara added: ‘We need to keep warriors here in case this is a trick to make us leave Brilhag unguarded and Riwanon unprotected.’
‘I am not concerned with Riwanon’s safety but that of my brother,’ snapped Trifina. She thought for a moment. ‘We will take these men,’ she pointed to the warriors who had accompanied her from Govihan, ‘and ride for the abbey.’
‘Can you give Eadulf and me horses?’ asked Fidelma. ‘We need to come with you.’
Eadulf gave an inward groan. The idea of confronting an angry mob with a few warriors and two women was not his idea of being prudent.
As they made their way into the fortress, Bleidbara was already shouting orders for horses to be saddled. Budic agreed to command the warriors remaining in Brilhag.
It was as they were riding out of the gates of the fortress that something made Fidelma glance back over her shoulder. Standing on the steps before the great hall, watching their departure, was Iuna. For a moment, Fidelma contemplated reining in her horse and turning back to question the girl, but she was swept along in the group of riders, whose priority was to get to the abbey. The mystery of Iuna would have to wait.
The ride to the abbey of the Blessed Gildas was accomplished at breakneck speed. Bleidbara and a warrior led the way, Trifina and Fidelma came next, then Eadulf, with two warriors behind him. The pace of Eadulf’s mount was thus forced by those in front and behind, so that Eadulf, as bad a horseman as he was a sailor, simply clung to his mount and hoped for the best. His headache had returned and the events of the day seemed to be overtaking him. Already the summer day was drawing to a close, the sky darkening. Could it have really been only this morning that he had set out in a sailboat with Fidelma?
The small band of riders raced through the thick forests along the track which led across the peninsula from Brilhag directly to the abbey buildings. As they neared the abbey, the sound of raucous shouting could be clearly heard.
Bleidbara slowed the pace and the party trotted through outlying buildings into the quadrangle that lay before the chapel of the community.
The mob was not as big as Eadulf had expected, though it was big enough. There were some forty or fifty people gathered in front of the chapel steps, all of them men, waving an assortment of weapons, mainly agricultural implements, and burning torches. They were sturdy men who, from their appearance, laboured on the land. Around the front of the chapel, weapons at the ready, a few warriors stood facing them, obviously the men that Bleidbara had sent on before.
In front of them, hands held up in supplication, as if trying to quieten the mob, stood Brother Metellus. Some of the other religious of the community stood nervously by him.
Bleidbara, at a quick trot, swung his group of riders around the mob — who started to yowl with derision when they saw them. The warriors dismounted swiftly, one grabbing the horses and leading them to a secure place at a rail by the side of the chapel before rejoining his companions. They reinforced the line of stoic men facing the crowd. Bleidbara led Trifina, Fidelma and Eadulf behind to where an anxious Brother Metellus was standing.
‘There will be no reasoning with this crowd much longer,’ the Brother said.
‘Tell us the story as quickly as you can,’ Fidelma said. ‘What has happened?’
‘Macliau came running into the community. He was in a bad condition — bleeding from some wounds, his clothes dishevelled. On his heels came some of these people.’ He jerked his head towards the mob. ‘They wanted to kill him. They accused him of being a murderer and thief, saying he is the leader of raiders who have been attacking their settlements for the last week. Macliau demanded sanctuary in our chapel and I took the decision to
